Trick or Treat!
by balthezarian
Summary: Because some traditions are too much fun to be left alone!


All the Saiyan prince had wanted to do was take a quick food break and quickly get back to his training. It was such a simple wish, one that he had done a thousand times before. However, on none of those times had greeted him with the sight of horror taking place in the living room.

Vegeta could only stare at the spectacle going on before him. He had heard of some insane human traditions in his years at the compound, but what he was witnessing was the single most bizarre he had ever witnessed. It was not something he approved of. "This is absurd," he said to himself.

However, his wife did hear him and, as per tradition, had to retaliate. "First of all, no it's not," she countered. "Secondly, this isn't new to you. You see this every year."

"I most assuredly have never seen _this_ before," the prince argued. "And quite frankly, this is atrocious!"

Bulma did not even bother to look up from her task. "It's Halloween," she pointed out, assuming it was more than obvious. "I have gotten dressed up in a Halloween costume every single year that you have been here. And in case you can't count, that's six years, dumbass."

"I know that!" Vegeta hollered back. "_You_ I am used to. And your costumes are more than enjoyable."

The heiress blushed, sparing her husband a coy glance over her shoulder. True enough, she had always made sure to pick out particularly provocative outfits for All Hallows Eve, and for the past five Halloweens, Vegeta had gotten sufficient enjoyment out of them.

"However," he went on, "nothing has ever been even remotely close to…" he scrunched his nose and waved his hand disapprovingly toward his wife's project, "…_this_."

"Oh, lighten up," Bulma shot back, glaring at her lover. "It's a perfectly fine Halloween costume."

From behind her, a young throat cleared. "I agree with Dad!"

Bulma shot a glare at her four year old son. "Oh, you shut up."

"Mom, I look ridiculous!" the little boy whined.

The heiress shook her head. "No, you don't," she argued. "You look very, very cute."

"_Cute?"_ the child gawked. "Are you nuts? I don't want to be _cute!_ And I am not _cute_. I look like a fool!"

The boy's mother simply continued to shake her head. "Nonsense," she chided.

"Brat's got a point," Vegeta added in. "He does look like a fool. Now take that off!"

"_See?"_

Bulma was losing her patience, and quickly. "Okay, both of you need to let this go, and now. Trunks looks adorable, and I'm sure any little boy would be jealous of his costume."

"Great," Trunks said, yanking part of it off, "I'll give it to Goten."

"Oh, no you don't," the mother warned, slamming the costume piece back on to her boy. "You are putting this on, young man."

Vegeta moved between his woman and his son. "Oh, no _you_ don't," he fought. "No boy of mine is wearing something like that."

"Agreed," Trunks chimed in, once again pulling off part of his ensemble.

But Bulma was not done fighting. "I am not going to let you two spoilsports ruin this," she grunted, trying to force her way back in. "This is the cutest costume I have ever seen, and my son is going to wear it."

"Two to one, Momma," Trunks taunted, using his father as a shield as he peeled off his costume. Stripped down to his underwear, the boy made his grand escape up the stairs and into his room. While he knew no force in heaven or hell could stop his father from getting in, the man actually seemed to be on his side. A well placed dresser in front of the door should keep his mother out quite well, and that was precisely what he planned to do.

Downstairs, Bulma glared at her husband. "Why did you do that?" she demanded. "Why would you try to ruin this for me?"

"I did not do this to ruin anything," the Saiyan fought back, "I did it because the boy looked absurd!"

"You don't even care about Halloween!" Bulma shouted. "It's not like I was trying to get _you_ to wear a costume!"

Kneeling down, Vegeta clenched a fist around his son's discarded garment. "I do not care what ridiculous notions of celebration you may have flying through your tiny little brain," he growled, holding up the cloth, "but there is no way in hell that my son is walking around dressed like _a MONKEY!"_

Bulma snatched the fallen costume from the fist and pouted. "Vegeta, this costume is adorable!"

"It's offensive!" he argued back. "I cannot believe that you, of all people, would put him in _that_!"

Bulma looked down at the costume she was clutching and sighed. "I guess you're right," she very reluctantly admitted. She let out another breath and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I thought that was going to be a good idea."

"Neither do I," the prince agreed. "Now that that's settled, I am going to return to…"

"Help Trunks pick out a new costume," his wife finished.

Vegeta whipped around and glared. "Not a chance, woman."

"First of all," the woman argued, "Trunks has probably barricaded himself in his room, so if nothing else you need to be the one to get him out of there. Secondly, since he didn't like the costume, he's not going to listen to me. And finally, I still like the monkey idea, so if it's left up to me, that's what he's wearing."

While normally he would have put up more of a fight, Vegeta knew that every second wasted was another one closer to his son being dressed as a chimp. Without verbally acknowledging her victory, the prince stormed up the staircase, still hoping he could fit some training in.

With no subtlety of any kind, he removed his son's door clear from its hinges. He swept the dresser aside and strode in, a no nonsense look on his face. "Boy, you need to shut your mother up. Pick a new costume."

Completely unphased by his father's entrance, Trunks smiled. In his short life, he had lost six doors to his father's unwillingness to bother knocking and waiting. "Done," the little boy answered, standing proudly on his bed. He was simply dressed in his training gi, and grinning ear to ear. "I'm a fighter!"

"Fantastic. Go tell your mother."

The boy's enthusiasm waned at the thought. "Um, Papa? Can you come with me when I tell her?"

The elder prince fought to keep his temper under control. "Why?" he demanded.

"Because if it's just me, she might make me dress up like a monkey again," the child explained.

Vegeta groaned. "Fine," he bit out. "I will accompany you, but then I am returning to my training and you are to leave me alone for the remainder of the evening." As his son bounded down the staircase, Vegeta silently stalked behind. Thirty seconds of support would be worth having an uninterrupted afternoon.

Trunks bounced in front of his mother. "I'm done!" he announced, holding out his arms to show off his new 'costume'. "Can I go play with Goten now?"

Bulma frowned. "But where's your costume?" she asked.

"This is it!" the little prince affirmed. "I'm a fighter! Now can I play with Goten?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but Vegeta glared at her. As far as he was concerned, the boy had done just fine. The child was told to find something new to wear, and he had done just that. Vegeta was not about to let his wife's stupid ideas rob him of another evening of training.

Bulma caught the look and decided to fold. "It's a great costume," she told the boy. "And as soon as Goten and his family get here, we'll all go Trick-or-Treating together."

Assuming that his part in the entire ordeal was over, Vegeta turned to leave. However, his exit was blocked by a hyperactive small child. "So you're coming with us, right, Papa?"

"No," he bluntly said, attempting to get around the child.

Trunks seemed oddly undeterred by the negative reaction. "I've never been Trick-or-Treating before," he told his father. "I'm not entirely sure what it is, but Momma said that it's a lot of fun and that I'll end up with a lot of candy by the end of the night."

"I'm sure she did," Vegeta growled, once again trying to get passed his suddenly hyper four year old. The buzzer sounded, alerting the family that guests had arrived at the front door, and for once Vegeta was thankful. If the harpy and the little idiot were there, then the woman and the boy would be gone in a matter of minutes and he could finally get back to training in peace.

Bulma opened the door to find a very frazzled Gohan clinging to an energetic Goten. While Goten looked adorable in a little dinosaur costume, Gohan had clearly seen better days. The older boy was unbelievably pale and had very dark circles under his eyes. "What the hell happened to you?" Bulma asked.

The exhausted teenager shook his head. "Mom's really sick," he explained. "She can't come out tonight."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," the heiress responded sympathetically.

Gohan nodded and placed the squirming three year old on the ground. "I know this is a lot to ask," he quietly pleaded, "but I really don't want to leave Mom home alone. She's got a high fever, she's been throwing up…I'm really worried about her."

Bulma placed a caring hand on the teenager's shoulder. "Do you want me to take care of her here?"

"No," Gohan assured, watching his little brother make a beeline for his lavender haired partner in crime, "I can take care of her, but we promised Goten that he could go Trick-or-Treating for the first time tonight. He was really, really looking forward to it, but since Mom's sick and I have to take care of Mom, I was hoping that you could take the boys on your own."

All of the color drained from Bulma's face. She was not foolish enough to think that she could handle two demi-Saiyans running around the city on a sugar rush without backup. That was why they had recruited Gohan in the first place. However, she could tell that Gohan was at his wit's end, and she knew that the boys were eager to go…

"I'll take care of everything," she calmly told her godson. "You go home and take care of your mother, and if you want or need anything at all just let me know."

A look of gratitude emanated from the exhausted boy. "You're a lifesaver," he thanked, already backing his way out the door. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"Go home!" Bulma laughed, waving him the last little way out the door. She gently closed it behind her, turning to the little boys who were already tearing the living room apart. The mere thought that she could tackle both of them at once was downright insane.

She needed backup.

"Boys!" she commanded, pulling something out of her pocket. "Come over here!"

The twins of terror hopped over to the blue haired beauty, both listening intently. "Are we going?" Trunks asked.

"Not yet," his mother answered. "I have a mission for the two of you."

Goten and Trunks snapped to attention. They enjoyed being given 'missions', especially Trunks. "What do you want us to do?" the little prince enthusiastically asked.

Kneeling down, Bulma looked the two boys square in the eye. "I need you to go get your daddy before he gets back inside the gravity room."

While Goten immediately seemed enthused, Trunks was more than a little reluctant. "I'm not sure Papa is going to like that," he honestly told his mother.

"Maybe not," Bulma responded, "but if you don't get Papa down here in the next thirty seconds, I can't take you two Trick-or-Treating at all tonight."

Bulma had to brush the flying hair away from her eyes as the aftermath of the little boys sprinting away. It never ceased to amaze her just how much power those two already seemed to have. While it could sometimes be frustrating trying to scold a four year old with enough power to take over the world, she would not trade her special little guy for anything. Smiling, she flipped a switch on the device in her hands. It was a cheap trick, but she knew what had to be done.

Upstairs, Vegeta was just approaching the outer chamber of the gravity room. It had only been formatted to the structure of the actual house a year earlier, and he had to admit, if only to himself, that he did enjoy the convenience.

His head snapped up as he sensed the incoming duo. "Oh, crap," he growled, quickly entering the code to enter the room. When a red light appeared, denying him access, Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously. Anyone else would have assumed that they had simply made an error and tried again, but the prince knew better. He had never made a flaw trying to enter his sanctuary. The only times he had ever been unable to enter, _she_ was involved. "I'm going to murder her…"

Not four seconds later he found himself being tackled by two hyperactive torpedoes. "Hiya, Uncle Vegeta!" Goten called out, holding tightly on to the man's leg.

Trunks had gone for the shoulder and, due to his father's block, ended up firmly attaching himself to the arm instead. "Sorry, Papa," he apologized, though the sincerity was questionable, "but we're under orders."

"Get off me!" the pureblood demanded. He tried to shake them off, but the two had gotten an unbelievably good grip on him and were not giving up. Just as he would manage to pry one off, the other would get a stronger hold. Had they been enemies they would be long gone, but no matter how annoying they were, he would not hurt them the way he would have to in order to be free.

"What the hell do you brats want?" he shouted, still trying to dislodge them.

"Momma said that if you don't get downstairs in thirty seconds," Trunks grunted, refusing to let go, "we couldn't go out tonight!"

Goten huffed as he wrapped his legs around Vegeta's calf. "Yeah!" he agreed. "I want candy!"

As the senior prince continued his attempts to remove the little terrors, a laugh sounded down the hall. "I recommend doing what they want," Bulma teased.

Grunting, Vegeta glared at his lover. "No!"

"It's the wise decision," the heiress counseled, smirking at her husband. "It's not going to go well for you if you don't."

Vegeta twisted his shoulder, getting the arm Trunks was attached to behind his back. Using his free arm and leg, he managed to get his son underneath his arm, putting the boy firmly in his control. "I will not do it!"

With a flash of light, Bulma laughed. Her digital camera had gotten a great shot of the proud prince struggling against two little boys. "Oh, I don't know," she taunted. "I mean, I suppose if you really _wanted_ this framed in the living room for everyone to see…"

As he tried to remove Goten from his leg, Vegeta lost some of the firmness on the grip he held on his son. Trunks knew an out when he saw one, and he immediately scrambled onto his father's back. "You will not blackmail me," Vegeta hissed, twisting Goten off. "I will destroy the photo, the camera, the memory chip, your computer, and the damn wall if I have to!"

"True," Bulma sighed, pretending to be defeated, "you probably would cause a wave of destruction if I posted something like that on the wall." She let out another overly dramatic sigh and leaned heavily against the wall. "I suppose I could just take the boys all by myself."

Vegeta frowned. He knew his woman well enough to know when she was building up to something.

The heiress casually shrugged, not even looking at her lover. "Gee, I'm going to be sooooo tired after running around after these two all night, I'm not going to have any energy at all."

The prince, who was still grappling with the children, blanched. He knew where it was going.

"Yup," Bulma casually went on, "I'm just barely going to have the energy to _get_ to bed. I'm just going to climb in and fall fast asleep."

Too proud to forfeit, Vegeta stood his ground. Giving up pleasurable company for a few nights was worth staying in.

"In fact," the scientist continued, deliberately yawning, "I'm going to be so tired, I'll probably want to do nothing but sleep for _at least_ a month." She glanced over at her husband, her eyes heavily veiled by her beautiful, lowered lashes. "Maybe two."

_That_ was not worth it. "_FINE_!" the prince hollered, furious at his defeat. "Let's just get this damn thing done and over with!"

"_Yea!_" the boys cheered, both immediately letting go.

Ten minutes later found the four of them walking down the neighborhood street. "What, exactly, are we doing here?" the prince hissed lowly at his mate.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "It's easy," Bulma whispered back. "The kids go up to a house, ring the doorbell, say 'Trick or Treat' when someone answers the door, the person gives them candy, and we go to the next house."

Vegeta stalled, a horrified look on his face. "Are you actually telling me that we are taking them to _beg_ for _junk food?"_

Again Bulma rolled her eyes, adding a huff for good measure. "Not begging," she defended, "just following tradition. Look, there are dozens of other kids out here right now, all doing the same thing. It's no big deal, just something for the kids to do."

"If it is no big deal, as you say," the prince countered, "then why were you adamantly refusing to keep them in tonight?"

"Because it's fun!" Bulma hissed back. "Listen, I am not going to let you ruin this for them. You're only here on safety detail. And no," she went on, knowing what he would think at her words, "they are not in any trouble. You're here to stop _them_ in case they get too wound up!"

"This is ridiculous!" Vegeta matched her hiss. "They could get a thousand times as much just from the damn kid's allowance! This entire expedition is pointless!"

"It's fun!" Bulma pushed again. "Look how happy they are doing this!"

The Saiyan prince grumbled, barely sparing the children a glance. They seemed entertained, but he had seen them just as happy running around in the backyard. As they rang the doorbell, Vegeta took a step closer to his wife. "What the hell does 'Trick or Treat' even mean?" he quietly demanded.

The heiress took a calming breath, grateful that the man was opting to satiate his curiosity instead of adamantly trying to stop the fun. "It means that the person at the door has a choice. They can either provide a treat for the kids, or they will have a trick played on them."

Suddenly, the prince seemed genuinely interested. "So it's extortion, not begging," he reasoned. A smirk crossed his face as he nodded along. "Perhaps this is not such a bad exercise for the boy…"

Bulma giggled, opting to nod along. While most children did not actually play tricks on candy-less houses, she figured that what Vegeta didn't know couldn't hurt the night. The first few houses went just fine. The boys were well behaved, the neighbors provided candy, and everything was going quite smoothly.

But then they came across a house that had a less than friendly atmosphere about it. There were clearly people home, but Bulma shook her head. "Skip that one, boys," she advised. "They don't have anything."

Vegeta looked from his mate to the house and back again. "What tells you that?" he questioned.

The heiress pointed to the house and frowned. "No porch light on. No porch light equals unfriendly territory. Odds are they won't even answer the door. Here, watch this."

The four of them stood back as another group of small children walked up to the front of the house. With hope in their voices, the crowd of princesses and goblins called out, "Trick-or-Treat!"

Inside the house, someone got up. Bulma was honestly surprised by that. In all her years on the candy hunt, she had never had a dark house offer up anything. Apparently, her guidance was off. Shrugging to herself, the blue haired beauty was about to tell the boys that it was okay to go up after all.

That was when the sprinklers turned on.

As the shrieking children ran away, Vegeta nodded. "You were right," he agreed. "It is unfriendly territory." He turned to her and offered a wicked smirk. "So how do we retaliate?"

Bulma blanched. "What?"

"You said that the people had a choice, that they could either offer a treat or be subject to some form of vengeance," the prince responded. "Since they are not offering anything, what will be done in retaliation?"

"Yeah, Momma, how do we get back at them?" Trunks asked, just as eager as his father.

_Oh lord_, the heiress thought. "Well, a lot of the classic pranks are actually illegal," she started to say, hoping to get out of it. However, watching another group of small, adorable children getting soaked by the freezing water helped convince her that something had to be done. "Of course, as long as you don't get caught…"

Forty minutes later, the four of them stood slightly down the street, watching the house with great amusement. Bulma had rediscovered the joy of pranks, a sensation that was assisted by the joy of having helpers that could move fast enough to avoid all forms of detection by the human race.

A ballerina, a lion, and a witch went up to the front door. The little witch pushed the doorbell with her broomstick, at the kids eagerly called out their demand.

Once again, the silhouette from within moved to scare off the intruders. An odd hush fell over the area, the children still eager in hopes that they would get the candies that they asked for. A soft squeak sounded, and another pause followed. Suddenly, the sprinklers shot to life.

However, instead of going wide and soaking the children, they went straight up in the air like geysers. The children shrieked, still scared, but they remained dry.

The toilet paper coated tree that branched out over several of the geysers was not so lucky.

With a grin on her face, Bulma guided the boys toward a new house. "See, the true greatness of that one is that the wet paper will, in a sense, fuse together," she pointed out, grinning from ear to ear. "And the little glue bombs we tossed in there will make it become a solid cast." She glanced over shoulder and stuck her tongue out at the evil house. "Serves them right for not having candy!"

/

Two hours later, the boys were passed out in a sea of candy wrappers on the living room floor. They had eaten half of their candy while they were out, but had managed to stay fairly well behaved, all things considered. It ended up working in the adults favor, since they crashed only ten minutes after returning from their night of fun.

Upstairs, Bulma and Vegeta were climbing into bed. None of the other houses on the street had earned their wrath, but the extent of damage they did to that first one had seemed to appease the prince. "See?" Bulma said, pulling up the covers. "That wasn't so bad."

"Perhaps not," the prince relented, "but it is a pity that only one house proved inhospitable."

The heiress giggled. "Yeah, you do seem to have a knack for vandalism." With a slight yawn, she moved closer to her husband. "So, is there a chance that I could get you to come out with us every year?"

"Will I be permitted to assault the property of those who do not comply with the demands of the children?" her prince asked.

Giggling again, Bulma nodded. "As long as nothing is blown up, I think we can find a happy middle ground." She snuggled up to him. "Thanks for helping out tonight."

The smirk found its way back onto the Saiyan's face. "Well, I couldn't have you be _too tired…"_


End file.
